You Could Burn Like A Constellation
by nikiness
Summary: She wanted to sleep. That's all. Just a few minutes and she'd be ok. Just a few minutes.


**Title:** You Could Burn Like A Constellation

**Author:** Allie Elizabeth

**Rating:** PG-13-ish. I'm not sure how loose I was with my language.

**Disclaimer:** Yes. I own Veronica Mars and all of the characters and I am filthy rich. I also have Logan locked away in my closet for my own...personal... use. However, I spend all of my free time writing fic instead of counting my millions. Pfft, I own nothing. Sue me and all you'll get is a Nirvana cd and some cherry coke cans. Trust me, it's not worth it.

**Pairings:** None

**Summary:** She wanted to sleep. That's all. Just a few minutes and she'd be ok. Just a few minutes.

**Authors Note:** _Hmm, so this is my first Veronica Mars fic, even though I have an unhealthy obsession with Loga-- erm, I mean, the **show**. Review it and I'll give you a cookie or sex or something. : The title is from the song Naive by the Jealous Sound and this story is dedicated to my best friend and boyfriend, Ryan. _

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She was burning.

She was on fire.

The air was smokey and too hot, she couldn't breathe. Every gasping breath left her coughing violently, lungs aching. Her whole body pounded with her pulse. Sweat trickled down the nape of her neck.

It was so hot.

She closed her eyes. They burned from the acrid smoke. It didn't matter, it was too dark and her eyes were too blurry with tears to see anything anyway.

_"Still alive, Veronica?" _ Aaron Echolls. His voice crackled through the walky-talky laying beside her. It was pressing uncomfortably against her ribcage. It was going to leave a bruise. She bruised easily.

She struggled for every shallow breath she sucked into her lungs. Her throat ached from the smoke.

But that didn't matter, she would be dead soon.

It scared her how unaffected she was. Every fact she'd ever learned from that Smokey the Bear coloring book in the fifth grade flooded her mind. The smoke would kill her long before the fire did. She gulped down another mouthful of smokey air. How many more breathes until she was dead? That reminded her of those old tootsi-pop commercials. How many licks to the center of a tootsi-pop? How many more breathes until she died?

It was a lie, she thought, that when you were close to death your entire life flashed in front of your eyes. All she saw were little red dots. She wondered what Lilly had seen while she was laying there, bleeding by the pool. Had she seen those same little red dots?

She was starting to feel weaker, lighter than she'd ever felt before. She'd read somewhere that when you died, your body became 21 grams lighter. People said it was your soul leaving your body. But she wasn't sure if she believed in souls. She wasn't sure if she believed in anything. But she felt lighter.

Sleep. Yeah, that's what she wanted to do. She wanted to curl up and sleep. She was so tired. Tired of everything. She'd been tired for a long time now, she realized. She'd been exhausted. Lilly had consumed her. Loss and death and grief and revenge. That's all she was anymore. Obsessed. She'd let herself get obsessed.

And would Lilly have done the same for her? Would Lilly have stayed up endless nights, going through files, staring at computer screens... trying to piece together all of the lies to come up with something that vaguely resembled the truth? Maybe. Maybe not. Probably not. Lilly would have cried. She would have sat in the front pew at Veronica's funeral. She would have missed her, but she wouldn't have become consumed by her.

But she wasn't Lilly.

So she'd become obsessed. With the truth, more than anything. That was all she'd wanted for a year. The truth.

And now she knew.

And now she was going to die. And maybe that was ok. Because she had no idea who she was with out Lilly. With out Lilly's ghost. She was consumed, obsessed, with the truth. Every minute-- every second-- of the last year, she'd been searching for it. And it was all that had kept her from falling apart completely with out Lilly there to hold her up. Some semi-tangible search for the truth had kept Lilly with her, and now she knew. And Lilly was still gone. And who was she now? _What_ was she now?

She breathed in, deeper this time. This was ok, it felt ok. Everything was warm. The air was thick, like laying underneath of a blanket. She closed her eyes tighter. It was ok, she was going to die. It was ok.

_"And how the fuck is it ok, Veronica Mars?" _

Her eyes opened fast. The walky-talky. But it wasn't Aaron's voice, it was Lilly. Lilly. Always Lilly.

_"Answer me, Veronica." _She was impatient. She was always impatient. Tugging at her arm, bouncing with anticipation. She _was_ motion. She never stopped.

Her hands fumbled in the darkness. Her limbs were too heavy. Her fingers found the square, hard plastic of the walky-talky and struggled to lift it to her mouth. Her knuckles scraped the freezer door and she dropped it. It landed heavily on her chest.

Oh well. She was too tired to try again. Too tired.

_"Verrrronnnica."_ Frustrated. Lilly was frustrated. Demanding. She wanted an answer.

"Lilly..." It hurt to talk. Her chest ached. So did her throat. She wanted to sleep. That's all. Just a few minutes and she'd be ok. Just a few minutes.

_"Don't you fucking give up on me!"_ Angry. She was so angry. Her voice sounded harsher with the radio static in the background.

"I'm sorry, Lilly." Every word hurt. It hurt so much.

_"He **killed** me Veronica." _Lilly sounded incredulous now. Indignant. He'd brought down Lilly Kane. And she'd always thought of herself as untouchable. Undestructable.

"I know..."

_"He's **killing **you!" _Lilly sounded even angrier now. Protective. Maybe Lilly would have cared if she'd died. Maybe Lilly would have let herself become just as consumed as Veronica had. Maybe. Or maybe this was just a hallucination. She was oxygen starved. Tired.

"I know..." Her voice sounded rough. Gravelly. Like the old woman in the apartment below hers. The one who'd smoked Pall Mall cigarettes for the last twenty years.

_"Quitter..." _

Quitter. Maybe she was. But she was so tired. She'd fought so hard. Not just tonight, but for a year. She'd fought. Fought to keep herself sane. Alive. Fought to get here, to this point. The truth. And now she knew and she was just so tired. She'd thought it would be different. She'd thought she'd feel different. But she just felt tired. She felt like giving up. Maybe she'd feel different after five minutes, if she could just sleep. Just for five minutes. She'd feel different.

But Lilly wouldn't have let him win.

She would have fought. She was all fists and nails and knees. Kicking and screaming. That was how Lilly lived her life. But Lilly was stronger than her. Unbreakable. Wasn't she? Veronica wasn't strong enough to keep fighting. Veronica wasn't Lilly.

Lilly would have hated her. For giving in. For being weak.

For letting him win.

_"Still alive, Veronica?" _

Aaron. He sounded smug. He knew he'd won. And they would never touch him. Never even suspect him. If she closed her eyes tight, she could see him. Coming up behind Lilly, seething with anger. Smashing her skull in. Watching her bleed. Maybe he even laughed.

Her arms were so heavy. Her fingers felt like they were lead weights as she struggled to lift up the walky-talky. Lilly. She closed her eyes tighter, repeated Lilly's name like a prayer in her head.

No giving up. Lilly wouldn't have given up.

"I'm alive."


End file.
